


I'm Glad It Was Yours

by originalwolfgirl



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Angst, Comfort, M/M, morimora, mormor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-02
Updated: 2015-02-02
Packaged: 2018-03-10 06:13:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3279761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/originalwolfgirl/pseuds/originalwolfgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Sebastian is captured by an enemy, they carve his bosses name into his chest to mock Jim.  This is a short angsty conversation where Sebastian consoles Jim about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm Glad It Was Yours

Jim’s finger traced the puckered edge of the ‘M’, his face distorted into a grimace. 

“It doesn’t hurt”.

Jim looked up skeptically, his eyebrow raised.

“Much” Sebastian added, reaching up to remove Jim’s hand from his chest and enclose it in his own.

“I’m-“  
“No” Seb interrupted, squeezing Jim’s hand so hard it hurt. Jim didn’t pull his hand free though. He deserved so much more.

“Stop it” Seb ordered.  
Jim kept his gaze on Seb’s torso; the smatter of freckles and light blond hair were marred by the etching of Jim’s name into Sebastian’s chest with messy penmanship, or he supposed, knifemanship. 

“You’re blaming yourself. I can see it” Seb remarked, bringing his free hand up to graze Jim’s cheek with the back of his hand.  
“Don’t you?”  
“No” Seb murmured soothingly.

Blood started seeping from the ‘Y’ and Jim reached his index finger up and wiped it off. 

Seb’s blood. His lover’s blood was oozing out in the form of Jim’s name. Jim smeared the blood on the pristine white sheets of their bed. Sebastian was helpless to console the despair that was manifesting in Jim’s dark eyes as his gaze traced the untidy capital letters.

“The least they could have done is written it in cursive” Seb joked in poor taste. He wanted to rouse Jim’s anger, anything but this anguish.  
It only made Jim cringe and curl his fingers around the blood stained sheets.

“Jim”  
Jim’s eyes flickered at the mention of the name that was currently causing him so much pain.

“If it had to be someone’s name, I’m glad it was yours” Seb professed; his voice hoarse with dehydration and colored with more sentiment than he normally addressed Jim with.

Jim looked up to see if his sniper was jesting. However, Seb’s sincerity was apparent in the affectionate curve of his lips and the way his thumb soothingly rubbed the back of Jim’s hand.

“You’re an idiot. A sentimental, fucking idiot Sebastian Moran”.

Sebastian smiled at the change in mood and grabbed the back of Jim’s neck to pull him into a kiss. It was short, but all the reassurance Jim needed that Sebastian was not mad at Jim for getting himself in trouble with a rich drug lord. Trouble that, as usual, Sebastian paid the price for. 

This time was worse than all of the other times Seb had got hurt on a mission. This was personal and it cut deep, literally and figuratively. Jim was very possessive over the things that were his, and the brutes wanted him to know that they had gotten their hands on his favorite sniper… his lover. They had made a mockery of Jim’s selfish disposition by marking his tiger since “he didn’t do it fast enough”, as they had written in the letter Seb was to deliver upon release.

Jim wrapped his arms around Seb’s shoulders and pulled the taller man into an embrace. Seb didn’t care that it hurt like hell. Jim didn’t care that he was smearing blood all over his grey dress shirt. All that they cared about was they were alive, they were together, and there would be hell to pay. Because Jim is possessive… and no one hurts his tiger and lives to brag about the hunt.


End file.
